


with love as grey as charcoal

by ishiptheships



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bitter Exes, Crimson Flower, F/F, F/M, Hildagard bitter exes, M/M, Multi, No Beta, Post-Time Skip, arranged political marriage, edelclaude arranged loveless political marriage, secret polyamory relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 11:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishiptheships/pseuds/ishiptheships
Summary: Edelgard never expected to face her ex like this, battling to her last breath. But when the Leader of the Alliance decides to surrender, offering his hand in marriage, she can't refuse his allyship. Things are not as simple as they seem, as Edelgard slowly learns more about her husband, Claude von Riegan, and the secrets he holds.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	with love as grey as charcoal

**Author's Note:**

> this is quite literally multiple ideas I've had about their relationship dynamics that transformed into a beast of a fic. please ignore all typos

Charcoal blackens Edelgard’s fingertips. In a nightshirt and underwear, she smudges the black coal against cream parchment, carefully softening the sharp edge of a stroke to mirror the cheekbone of the woman in her bed.

“Is it coming along?” Hilda says, her cheek pressing against her shoulder. Her eyes, having pierced into Edelgard’s defenses already, sit on top of glowing cheeks. She sits up, bare chested and hair falling over her shoulders and back. Her pigtails were always endearing but Edelgard loved to see her like this; stripped down, unkempt, with soft hair and soft skin. Her perfume is vanilla and flowers, warm and comforting, at the pulse at her neck where Edelgard can kiss over and over again.

“It’s coming along.” She decides to reply, looking at the portrait and back at her muse, before deciding to blend out the nose. Her nose is not as strong as how she has depicted it.

Lately it’s been like this. Spending their nights together, kissing, touching, _feeling_ …whatever this was. Whenever they meet, and nowadays they meet _often,_ she feels good: whenever Hilda sneaks into her room because Edelgard’s bed is comfier, whenever their hands intertwine, whenever she feels Hilda’s hands at her waist. All she knows that kissing Hilda is something she wants and wants completely with all her heart. It’s a feeling unlike something she has ever experienced before.

Hilda crawls over to Edelgard’s side of the bed where she peeks at the drawing in Edelgard’s hands. “Wow! That’s pretty good. Not like _Ignatz_ good, but you have a talent for this, El. Although…” A small smile tugs are her lips. “…you’ve given me such a strong nose.”

“I know—” Edelgard furrows her brow. “I’m trying…to fix it.”

She feels Hilda’s plump lips at her cheek, her breath in her ear. Her tongue presses ever so slightly to the pulse at her neck and Edelgard response with a small gasp. She feels Hilda’s cat-like smile against her skin.

“Fix it later.” Hilda says. “You’re not going to be here for my birthday after all.”

It’s a fact Edelgard tries to ignore. Tomorrow, she leaves for Enbarr to take her rightful place as Emperor of Adrestia. After tonight, no more distractions, no more feeling, no more Hilda _._ She would have to go back to how it was a few months ago: alone, secretive, buried in her work. And Hilda would go back to…whatever she did before: getting boys to do her chores and homework, sleeping with other people, _kissing_ other people, being Claude’s best friend, possibly _kissing_ Claude—you know what. Edelgard accidentally makes a mark too dark, and she silently curses.

Something possesses Edelgard move from Hilda. Frowning, she looks deep into Hilda’s round eyes. “Do you…do you like anyone?”

Hilda lets out a breath of laughter. “Of course.” When Edelgard doesn’t respond, she speaks again. “I _like_ many people. Raph is sweet, and Marianne is super sad but kind, and—"

“Not-not like that.” Edelgard looks down at her grey fingertips. “A-are you…and Cl—”

“ _Claude?”_ Hilda barks a laugh. “Goddess, _no_! He’s just a little baby! He _acts_ like he doesn’t need anyone, but there’s nothing further from the truth, that’s why I’m friends with him. Truly, without me, he would be a _goner_.” Her lips rest at a coy smile. “What’s it to you?”

Edelgard tries to prevent her hands from shaking. “So…is it only me?”

Hilda gets a fond look in her eyes and lets out a snicker. She rolls her large eyes of hers. “Yeah sure, of course.”

It still doesn’t feel right. Edelgard sets her drawing book aside and faces Hilda. She senses Edelgard’s seriousness and there’s confusion knitting her brow ever so slightly.

Edelgard knows the time when she will divide this country is soon. People will leave her. Her own _housemates_ will leave her. She expects that. But she knows that what will hurt the most if Hilda turns her back on her: side with Claude, the church, whatever. She doesn’t know what she would do if she were to face her on the battlefield.

“At the right time, would you join me to be by my side?” _To choose me?_ Edelgard voice is firm.

Hilda looks sideways, her lips tightening to a line, her expression of general confusion. She snorts a laugh. “El, you’re acting super weird. Yeah, sure. I’ll be by your side, you know that.”

Edelgard grips the binding of her book. There’s no way she could try to explain what she was planning to do without risking Hilda chatting about it—especially to nosy Claude. He already asked far too many questions. So, there’s nothing more to do. Except to wait for the moment where Hilda will be faced with a decision.

This may be the last time. “Can I finish this drawing? Then we can…” Edelgard opens her notebook.

Hilda smiles. Edelgard promises to remember it for eternity.

“Of course.”

_…_

_5 Years Later…_

The Battle of Derdriu was a victory for the Adrestian Army. Despite, the Leader of the Alliance’s sharp wit and clever tactics, Edelgard’s brute force strategy left the streets of the Aquatic City drenched in Alliance blood. Claude had taken a gamble, and his hand wasn’t strong enough. As Edelgard’s trooped pressed on, she saw herself getting closer and closer to the General Goneril, who had made quite the notorious reputation for herself during the war for her unpredictable strength and fighting style. As her axe made contact with stone, the ground shook underneath their feet. Simply put, she was Claude’s ace in the hole.

Even then, by the time she was cornered to the bridge where Claude watched the horrific battle unfold, Hilda wasn’t looking so great. Edelgard distinctly remembered a large gash in her side, saturating her uniform with blood, her hair singed from fire magic, an arrow in her dominant arm. She watched as Hilda carefully snapped the stem of the arrow off as the Black Eagle Strike Force surrounded her.

She and the Professor walked forward in warning. But all Hilda did was clench her jaw and dig her heeled boot into the ground. Edelgard couldn’t see even an ounce of fear in her eyes despite her shaking arms.

There’s a split second where Edelgard doesn’t want to order an attack. She sees Hilda’s heaving breaths and sweat and blood dripping into her eyes. Her heart aches and she wants to mend her. Nonetheless, she opens her mouth.

Then the unexpected happened. Claude surrendered, flew to them with his hands raised, his wyvern landing next to Hilda. The wyvern’s wing rested behind her protectively. And he made a proposition.

It certainly wasn’t something Edelgard could refuse upright: if what he was saying was true, she couldn’t reject ensured international allyship with Almyra.

Byleth’s face uncharacteristically showed the slightest hint of shock and disbelief when Claude offered his hand in marriage. They looked at Edelgard incredulously, as if they were asking if she would seriously consider it. She hadn’t dared look at Hubert’s face, whatever disgust he would surely display.

“Capture them.” She told Caspar and Petra, the strongest of the bunch. When Casper rushed to Hilda, she was already on the ground in exhaustion. Her blood smeared on the stone.

“Please get her a medic.” Claude had told Petra, whose quick hands had his wrists bound in knots before he could finish his request. Apparently, Claude von Riegan was not above begging. Petra gestured to Lindhart to go to Hilda’s side.

Now, two days later, Edelgard walks the halls of Garreg Mach Monastery, having considered Claude’s proposal, against her advisor’s wishes. She knows how Hubert feels without even talking to him. Eventually, Ferdinand hesitantly agreed that the marriage might be beneficial for the two countries. Lorenz, who had defected to the Empire to follow his father’s wishes, also voiced his concern for Claude’s motives. And Byleth…Byleth told her in the end that they would support her in whatever decision she made.

She walks to the dorms, now sleeping area, almost in trepidation because she hears shouting. The hall is empty; odd as she knows Hilda would refuse to do anything except guard Claude’s chambers. As she approaches Claude’s room, she discovers the heated argument. Hilda’s voice rages from down the hall. Edelgard thinks about Hilda’s expression during the battle and her voice now, so full of determination and fire. So, this is how her war has affected her.

“I won’t let this happen!” Hilda’s voice booms and shakes Edelgard deep in her chest. “I won’t let you marry—”

“This was the deal,” Claude’s low voice is firm, and the walls vibrate with his sternness. His voice strains, as if he’s trying not to raise is tone. “It will ensure Fodlan’s future, _my_ future, _your future_ —”

“You _can’t just—”_ A crash and the sound of a teapot shattering accompanies Hilda’s raging emotions. “If I only did something, I could have prevented this. I should have done more. But _I had to listen to you. Retreat_ instead of _fighting and holding my line—_ "

“Stop that. You would have died.”

“Ha! So what? Maybe if I did—”

 _“That wasn’t an option_ , _and you know that!”_

Claude’s crack in temperament leaves the room in complete silence, holding so much meaning that Edelgard can barely understand its subtext. A rare outburst from Claude von Riegan has even the Emperor of Adrestia shaken.

But it only takes a minute before Hilda voice breaks through, dripping in regret. “Please…please, Claude…it’s not _fair_ …” Edelgard doesn’t think her voice is waterlogged, but then again, she has never heard Hilda cry. She considers the tone in her voice and it shocks her; who is this Hilda? This passionate, loyal, _emotional_ —

Steps approach the door. Claude’s gentle, “Hil, wait—” chases after her, and the door flings open.

It’s customary for anyone who meets the Emperor to bow. But all Hilda does is freeze and stare at Edelgard’s face. To her surprise, Lorenz emerges from the dim room, reaching out to touch Hilda’s shoulder, but halts when he sees the Emperor at the door. Unable to form words, Lorenz looks back and forth between the two women before resting his attention to Hilda.

Edelgard hasn’t torn her glance from Hilda’s round eyes. Hilda doesn’t look like she cried; her eyes aren’t reddened or swollen, but they glisten as if tears are seconds away from slipping. Hilda’s clenches her jaw, a muscle in her neck tensing as her desperation bleeds into anger once again. A deep inhale, and she brushes past Edelgard, stormy and unpredictable, until she reaches a room down the hall. The door shuts with a slam. Edelgard closes her eyes.

Lorenz eyes follow Hilda down the hallway before he considers Edelgard a moment. He decides to bow slightly, uncharacteristically awkwardly even, before he steps aside for the Emperor to enter the room.

“My lord,” Lorenz announces. “Her Majesty of Adrestia.” He bows again as Edelgard enters the room. Another look between man and woman. “If you would both excuse me.”

Lorenz rushes out of the room, presumably down the hall. Edelgard hears him knock on Hilda’s door and quietly open it.

She finally turns to the former Leader of the Leicester Alliance, looking well-worn down at his desk within his personal quarters. The bed in unslept in, despite him having stayed there overnight. The desk, however, is messy, covered in letters just received and about to be sent out. Battle maps are thrown in a messy pile at the corner of the desk, now discarded. Claude von Riegan regards the Emperor of Adrestia with careful eyes, dark under his brow, from his seat.

“Isn’t it unlucky for the groom to see his bride the night before their wedding?” He muses bleakly.

 _Seems like it would be unlucky regardless._ Edelgard ruminates to herself. She watches him pick up a crystal glass of dark liquid. The bottle of Gloucester whiskey sitting next to it looks freshly broken into. Her eyes gather her surroundings in the dark room, lit by only candlelight. There’s a broken tea set on the floor, the brew still steaming.

“Celebrating the end of your bachelorism?” She gestures to his glass.

His laugh is empty. “Gloucester whiskey is considered the finest in Leicester. Would Your Majesty like to indulge and celebrate?”

“Not today.” She shakes her head. “I actually wanted to discuss the terms of our arrangement.”

Claude sits up in his chair, tapping the rim of his glass of alcohol before turning to her once again. “I’m all ears, Your Majesty.”

Edelgard can’t help but notice his eyes, which usually unreadable, now regard her with a complicated cocktail of deep-seated sadness and determination. “We both know this deal you have presented me and that I have accepted is not ideal for us personally.”

She pauses for him to interject. When he doesn’t, she continues.

“But I’m going to discuss my conditions that would make this arrangement beneficial for both of our goals.” She stares at him. “That is what you want, am I correct?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll be presented with these terms tomorrow before the wedding in a contract. But I didn’t want you to go into the deal blind. Any objections I will gladly listen to here.”

Claude brings the side of his forefinger to his lip, deep in thought. He continues to wordlessly regard her, so Edelgard continues.

“Once we are wed, you will relinquish all Alliance troops and land to me. All nobles within the Alliance will swear their fealty to the Empire. You will reside at the palace until the war is over. As long as you are under this roof, you have my protection.

“As for your connections in Almyra,” Edelgard pauses. “You have promised me ensured allyship which include but are not limited to military and trade support because of our marriage status. You are permitted to leave for your homeland to reestablish your power there once the war has been won. However—” She watches Claude’s eyes flicker. “You cannot sire children. As you are married to me, Adrestia has political influence over Almyra. The King cannot have an heir.”

Claude takes a deep breath.

“Once you die, Almyra is under Adrestian rule: I, as Emperor.” Edelgard folds her hands in front of her and tilts her head. “Those are my terms.”

A hand swipes over his face. Claude closes his eyes. “And if I reject?”

“Unfortunately, Almyra will lose a worthy ruler. You will be a prisoner here.”

“What about my people? Lord Gloucester? Duchess Goneril?” It’s odd hearing their official titles. 

“Will have to swear fealty to me. Lord Gloucester will have to reswear his loyalty to the Empire as he was a spy for you all along.” She sighs, exhausted. “If not, they will be traitors and be prisoners as well.”

Claude takes several minutes to think. Edelgard can almost see his mind buzzing with all the possible outcomes to her proposition. “I accept. On one condition.”

“Let me hear it.”

Claude leans forward, his forearms resting at his knees as if in prayer. “Promise me only the ownership of Almyra’s rule will change after I die. No inquisitions of religion or culture.” He closes his eyes in resignation. “I don’t want to sign a death warrant on my people.”

His love for his homeland is apparent. It saddens Edelgard to see him beg like this. “Of course not. I will have that amended in the contract.”

“Then it’s decided.”

There’s not much exchange after that. She leaves his chambers to retire for the night. Edelgard wakes the next morning, early enough to make sure all the paperwork is in order. Dorothea dresses her in in a cream dress, a stark contrast to her war attire, and when she meets Claude in the throne room, he’s wearing a clean dress shirt and slacks. Hilda and Lorenz are not too far behind them, both looking worse for wear. When Hubert hands her the written contract, she reads it aloud, for those in the room to witness. She watches Ferdinand’s concerned glances to Hubert, who is unreadable. Claude signs his name at the bottom of the contract. Hubert runs through the marriage ceremony. Claude’s face is unreadable until after they kiss. His lips brush her gloved knuckles. When they leave the throne room together, she glances to Lorenz, looking quite exhausted, but Hilda…

There’s a sort of hate she has never witnessed on someone else’s face before. It’s ugly and seethes out of her like a disease; but even still, she considers how beautiful she looks, even when there’s so much hurt in her eyes.

…

There’s no time for a honeymoon, thankfully.

Edelgard throws herself into the war. With her newfound power of Alliance forces as well as her Professor’s support, she defends Garreg Mach with ease, destroying the Church’s army. Afterwards, it’s meeting after meeting, from Empire internal affairs to war planning sessions with heavy debate.

Of course, war planning sessions include the great mind of Claude von Riegan. While seemingly liking his time with Byleth a bit _too_ much for Edelgard’s liking, provides a fresh perspective on the Empire’s war strategy. Now he is within a pact, his goal is now to help the Empire win. And Edelgard would not waste a mind like him.

 _Anything to survive…_ Edelgard knows that’s his ultimate goal. Not that she has ever asked him, but she knows because of the determination in his gaze. When she looks in the mirror, she sees it in herself.

Of course, Hubert had his reservations. With the copious tea and coffee, he correctly warned that a slip of poison would go easily undetected. Despite that, Edelgard disagreed. Claude would not act so brashly that soon into their allyship.

And she was right. All Claude does during the meetings is listen; he listens until she, Byleth, or even Hubert looks to him for additional input. His hands flat on the table only to reach for his own teacup, his eyes go back and forth between her and whoever is speaking in that moment, as if he knows he’s being carefully regarded. His posture is relaxed, but every so often, a muscle in his neck twitches, above the collar of his plain button-down shirt.

When the meeting winds down to an end, she dismisses all except Claude. Hubert is hesitant to leave, of course; but a stern look and gentle coaxing from Byleth has him out the door.

She turns to Claude, who has a very amused expression on his face.

“Speak candidly.” She says, to which the other raises his eyebrows. “I want to know your opinion of our plan.”

After a moment of pause, he speaks. “I agree with Hubert.” He finally raises his arms in a shrug of resignation. “Fhirdiad isn’t built to withstand a battle. Tailtean Plains is where they’re going to be next. As for what they have in store for you…” He clasps his hands together pressing his mouth to his thumbs. “I would also agree with Hubert that being on the front lines is not your place.”

Edelgard opens her mouth several times, wordlessly. She manages, “And why not?”

“Simple, you could get hurt or even die. After so much momentum, it would be unwise to have the great leader fall.”

Edelgard frowns, “Is that why you watched your soldiers die from the safety of the Derdriu docks?”

“Ouch.” Claude grimaces, crossing his arms. He retreats backwards in his chair. “Listen, Your Majesty, I know our fighting and strategy styles could not be less similar, but I would beg you to not press salt in my w—”

“You’re right.” Edelgard says gently. “That was improper of me, I’m sorry.”

Claude sighs after a moment of pause. “And I shouldn’t doubt your strength. As long as you survive each battle to win the war, that is all that matters to me.”

“I guarantee it.” Her lips can’t help but curl up into a smirk. “I didn’t realize that maybe you cared for me after all.”

Claude takes his tea. “Well, you’ve given me no choice. I also know your strengths and they’re best used in the front lines. I’ve worked closely with people with similar strengths. In the end—” He sighs. “—I know you are correct.”

His reasoning is eerily close to Byleth’s; they think very similarly and strategize with logic. Despite all of that, she thinks about how her war has brought the two of the closer together. Her mind races to the outburst between Hilda and Claude days prior. She wonders how close her war brought _those_ two together.

“I—” She starts. “I may have heard your argument on your second night here.”

Claude’s face is unreadable.

“I didn’t get the chance to say my apologizes for sticking my head where it shouldn’t be—”

“You were there to set the terms of our marriage.” Claude sips his tea. “I don’t hold any grudge against that. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Still.” She says gently. “Is…Hilda doing okay?”

He notices her lack of formality, his brow arching. “She’s fine. She just needs more time to adjust.” His eyes are all-knowing, and it scares her a bit. “Why do you ask?”

“Despite the divides that I have created between all of us…of course I still care about you all. Personally. We will forever be classmates.”

“Some divides…some other connections have been made due to your decisions.” He says mysteriously.

“Ah, Lorenz?”

Claude’s bottle green eyes flicker. “What about Lorenz?”

“Lorenz went after her. I know during war, people tend to seek comfort in each other—”

“In a sense. They have.”

 _Hilda with Lorenz? Have they gotten that close? Lorenz never seemed like Hilda’s ideal type of person…_ “I’m surprised, I always thought Lorenz was someone who preferred…” She trails off. “I supposed I shouldn’t make assumptions of anyone.”

That rises a laugh out of Claude. There’s a genuine crinkle in the corner of his eyes. “He’s not unlike you and me.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re the equitable sort.” His eyes stare at her. “Have _you_ not found comforts in others, Your Majesty?”

Edelgard shakes her head. “No.” She answers truthfully.

“And why is that?” Claude’s head cocks ever so slightly. He’s genuinely curious.

“There’s no time. I’ve dedicated myself to the cause. A cause that has thrown the people of Fodlan into instability. People die for my cause. To engage in the comforts of others would feel…like I’m wasting my people’s time. Their lives.”

“Well.” Claude folds his hands around his teacup. “I hope that our marriage doesn’t look like you’ve wasted your time to the people of Fodlan.”

“I can only hope that our relationship will be seen as an olive branch between our people.”

“Your loyalty to your people is admirable.”

A pause. “I didn’t expect Lorenz to betray his loyalty.” She stiffens. “In more ways than one.”

“What? That he would betray me, his Lord and Leader of the Alliance, to you and follow in his father’s footsteps? Or betray you despite all of that as my agent?” Claude’s smile is stark against the cunning look in his eye. “It helps that he has expectations against him. Many expectations that he feels are unjust and unfair.”

Edelgard’s eyes narrow, possibly too much of her heart is showing on her sleeve. “I suppose he was in correspondence with you the whole war.”

“You would be correct.” Claude leans back again in his chair. “If you _are_ to know, it wasn’t my idea. He had seen an opportunity, an in, and took it. In that way, we are the same. Opportunistic.”

“He’s just as cunning and ruthless as you.”

“I suppose so. But I will say, I prefer to have my advisors close to me. But he insisted.”

Edelgard tries not to come off too ticked off. “Well, it seems you have had me tricked.”

Claude breathes a laugh, amused. “Is it because you thought you could have the upper hand over me? Steal something of mine to get back at what I stole from you?”

Edelgard’s stomach drops. Ah, so he _does_ know. Possibly in much detail, the hurt and betrayal of the sporadic relationship between her and Hilda before her ascension to the throne. How Hilda was distant when Edelgard needed her the most. How she was the first person Edelgard had fallen so tragically for.

But Hilda chose Claude every single time.

“I don’t suppose she was another agent of yours back during our school days?”

Claude shakes his head with a fond smile. “No. I didn’t have any control over her then, and not even now. She’s a free spirit. I’m sure that assures you.”

 _That what she and I had was genuine?_ “How does that assure me? In the end, she stayed by your side.”

Claude takes a deep breath and meets her eyes, looking empathetic. “I’m not responsible for her decisions, Edelgard.”

Edelgard presses her lips together. “I’m not petty, however…” She stares at Claude. “I’ll admit it did give me some…satisfaction to have your brightest advisor at my side. Turns out I was mistaken on hurting you.”

“Well,” Claude stands to make his leave, and in customary Adrestian fashion, takes her extended hand. His lips press against her knuckles. “I wouldn’t worry, Your Majesty. You’ve caused just enough hurt and won in the end.”

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him, leaving her with his last words.

…

Hubert’s coffee smells harsh and abrasive. Though he insists on drinking it without her, she knows it is what he is accustomed to. And she wants him comfortable, especially if he does so much for her: much of which goes without her knowing.

By now, it’s their 3 meeting for the day about the upcoming battle at the end of the month. “It is settled that the troops will start marching towards the Tailtean Plains by the 20th of this month?” Hubert’s voice gravels lowly against his teacup of dark bitter liquid.

“I will make it so. I’ll oversee that the commanders. But it will have to wait until tomorrow morning.” Her voice sounds more tired than she means to let on as her eyes travel to the large stack of parchment beside her. Her hand raises to her brow, and she closes her eyes.

“Your Majesty,” Hubert starts. “You know I have looked at all of the new decrees and I _assure_ you they are all to your liking, just as you would prefer—”

“They still need to be looked at by me.” Edelgard says, glaring at Hubert through her brows. The audacity of this man to do everything for her.

Hubert can feel her annoyance, but his expression remains neutral. “Your health and rest are vital, especially if you insist on fighting front lines.”

“Hubert, I have done this before, and I shall do it again. I wish for you not to dote on me. You know this.”

“Naturally.”

“And you refuse my orders.”

Hubert smiles. “You know I must.”

Her eyes narrow. “And I’m sure you have been keeping an eye on my husband.” She says. “Despite my ordering you not to.”

“Apologizes, Your Majesty.” Hubert’s bows his head. “But your safety is of most importance.”

“Do you not trust him?” She asks, folding her hands over the edge of the battle map. “I would advise you to not insult him, Hubert, he is a guest here.”

“I have been observing without his knowledge, my lady.” He states. “I have not deemed him dangerous, and he doesn’t seem to be up to those schemes of his—” Hubert stops short, his thin lips pausing to consider his words carefully.

“You’re keeping something from me, again.” She sighs. “Whatever you had discovered, it is important for me to know.”

She waits patiently for Hubert to speak again. A full minute has passed by before Hubert sighs and looks sideways in annoyance.

“Your Majesty, there have been nights where…I have seen Lady Goneril and Lord Gloucester enter his room.”

“They are all very close, I suspected him to conspire with them—”

“Conspiring or not, that is not what I mean.” Hubert clears his throat. “Either one or both would spend the night in his quarters. Very frequently, according to my observations.”

Edelgard raises her brow. “You mean to tell me what you’ve been keeping from me is that they spend their nights strategizing and scheming together? I could have told you that myself, dear Hubert.”

Hubert inhales. “Your Majesty, I’m telling you they are closer than he or any one of them would even suggest.”

Suddenly everything seems to click into place. Her stomach drops. “Ah.” Suddenly feeling very foolish, she stands. “Well, what do you suggest that I do?”

“I suggest you do your best to distance the three from each other, possibly even putting Lord Gloucester and Lady Goneril in the Enbarr prison—”

“Hubert!”

“They are breaking the law by involving themselves with the Emperor’s spouse. While he is not king, it is clear that those who get between the Emperor and their spouse should be dealt with.”

Taking a moment to consider him, her brow furrows. Their joined relationship would explain Claude’s mysteriousness, his want to keep the two close and alive. It would explain Lorenz’s willingness to act in Claude’s favor. It would even explain Hilda’s outburst that one night, even if it surprises her. Hilda? Flippant Hilda had grown so attached to the one person she was loyal to that she had started to wear her guarded heart on her sleeve? Is this how she had changed since the war? Or was this just how Hilda acted when she truly, _truly_ loved someone?

Had Hilda even felt anything for her at all?

Edelgard sighs. “Unfortunately, his liaisons outside of our marriage do not threaten our legal marriage, especially when our relationship is loveless.”

“Despite it being loveless, the former Duke Riegan should find it in himself to respect the marriage in which he is in.” Hubert purses his lips. “We can’t have the Emperor’s reputation degrade because of her husband’s nightly liaisons.” He waits until she stands before he walks to the door. “Not to mention how delicate feelings can be.”

Of course, he would be worried about her and her wellbeing. “Dear Hubert…” She sighs as Hubert kisses her knuckles. “Do not worry on my behalf. Even though this news is surprising, I will not lose sleep over it. Besides,” She frowns, “even if I were to mend my relationship with him, I believe I’ve done more harm than good to do so. It’s beyond repair.”

Hubert gives her a rare sympathetic look before his exit.

It takes a few days for Edelgard to process Hubert’s information. She decides it is a shame really; she was very set on working with Claude long term, hopefully, maybe even naively, attempting to fall in love with him along the way. Edelgard reasoned with herself that it wouldn’t be _that_ hard. Claude was handsome, bright, respectable, even kind to a certain extent. Edelgard could put up with that for the sake of a marriage.

Now, she realizes the bridges she had burnt, and the walls people have put up because she decided to wage war. Even if she extends an olive branch, there’s no way that Claude would accept it: and his walls were particularly high and impenetrable. Even if she wanted to create an amicable marriage, it’s impossible. Claude’s heart is elsewhere.

Since Hubert revealed his observations, Edelgard naturally was hyperaware of the three’s interactions. Predictably, in front of Edelgard and other Adrestian presences, Claude, Lorenz, and Hilda are strictly professional. In fact, Edelgard probably wouldn’t even know about their relationship at all unless Hubert had made her aware of it.

But there are some cracks in the walls they have put up and she sees Claude show affections in ways that she would never receive. A meeting occurs the following day and despite their practiced formalities, he gestures to his trusted advisor with a: “Lor, can you pass me a quill?”

Lorenz looks fairly unaffected, passes him the quill with a pointed, “My Lord.” A piercing look that would have only been noticed by a cognizant eye, and Claude clears his throat.

“Thank you.” Claude manages, heavy with pretense.

Not only that, she notices while they deliberate to each other in the corner during meetings, Claude would sneak a swift squeeze of Lorenz’s hand in comfort. A soft gaze. Something to keep Lorenz’s nerves down.

Admittedly, she feels ashamed. If only the man could express his love openly; he would undoubtedly do so.

Meanwhile, Hilda is absent from most of those meetings, claiming to have no intellectual input that would be useful. Edelgard knows half of it is an excuse to not be in the same room as her. She also figures that Hilda is out doing Claude’s bidding, an errand here and there. She finds this out one day when she catches a rendezvous in the rose garden, speaking in low tones. Hilda hands Claude a stack of letters over some tea, which Claude pockets without another look. They switch seamlessly between Fodlanese—heavily coded in which Edelgard (nor Hubert) can’t decipher what they mean—and what she thinks is Almyran, showcasing Hilda’s slight accent.

Of course, the meetings can be read as strictly professional. And Hilda has always been affectionate towards people, falsely so to have the recipient to do her _own_ requests; but Hilda sometimes puts a little extra effort to tuck a loose curl behind his ear or straighten his cravat. Before they part, she fusses with his earring, absentmindedly telling him to polish the jewelry.

“Even though it’s gold, Khalid, it can dull with wear.” Hilda says. The look in her eyes is gentler, a kinder expression that Edelgard can tell is only reserved to someone she cares for. While Claude is often a source of comfort for Lorenz, Edelgard learns his true nature and expressions; with Hilda, he almost never smiles, the bags under his eyes more prominent. And Edelgard figures it’s not because he dislikes Hilda’s presence—it’s because he can show himself to her. She is his foundation.

Objectively, it warms her heart to see three people lean to each other, trust each other so much. However, it sits with her uncomfortably, how comfortable they are with Claude as their leader and how they are so devout to him. Now she knows the extent to which both Lorenz and Hilda will go for him: Lorenz politically and Hilda physically. Was this how they always were, even in school? Or was this how her war changed them, made them malleable at Claude’s fingertips? The Hilda she knew (although, how well _did_ she know her?) would never go to any lengths for anyone besides herself. It hurts; she now knows she will never receive that affection from Hilda, the devout, but not blind, trust and loyalty. Not after all the pain she has caused her.

What a fool she has been, grasping at the enigma that is Hilda Valentine Goneril after all these years.

_…_

A full day of war strategizing has Edelgard working on Adrestian domestic affairs late into the night. While Hubert has done much of the work for her, it is important to double check everything to make sure what she signs off on is suitable for rebuilding after the war efforts.

While they’ve finished the war, there’s much work to do behind the scenes. As their battle with Those Who Slither in the Dark continues, she has split her time between Garreg Mach and Enbarr, maintaining the reconstruction of Fodlan at Garreg Mach, while maintaining her secret network of spies at the Adrestian palace. Just a few days ago, she and Claude, rather Khalid, made their first public appearance, announcing their countries as allies from here and from now on. While she wore a more diplomatic red attire, Claude adorned traditional Almyran clothing.

“I need to play the part.” Claude said lowly to her as they waved to the crowds in Enbarr from their palace balcony. He had adorned a rather richly dyed long garment with flowing pants, his usual sash on his hip. Her stare must have asked given her thoughts away.

Where he had gotten the clothes were beyond her. From her understanding, he was searched of all possessions at the time of his capture and his traditional attire was not with him. She does suspect that it does have something to do with Hilda missing from all premises for about a week prior, with Claude’s beautiful white wyvern missing from the stables around the same time.

Meanwhile, the 5-year-old portrait of Hilda burns a hole in her desk drawer. More than she would like to admit, she reaches for it to gaze upon her own strokes of charcoal, reminiscing about their days in school. How Hilda would sneak into her room at night because she had the comfier bed, how Edelgard would have to wake Hilda up just before class so she would make it on time. She even remembered the time they both snuck into the church to steal wine and drank while the sun rose. Wine-drunk and loose lipped, she could have sworn they confessed their love for each other, but the memory is too foggy to recall the details. Maybe it was her projection of what happened.

 _That was only a few days before everything._ Edelgard considers, her hand reaching into the desk drawer to pull out the sketch. She stares upon Hilda’s likeness for longer than she would like to admit before pressing her lips together. She takes her quill, and flips the page, writing a small note. Standing, she walks as if possessed to the other side of the palace, where she knows Hilda resides. Her kitten heels clink on the polished stone as she tucks her picture back under her breast pocket.

When she arrives at Hilda’s door, she figures the chances of her being inside the room is close to zero. Most of her nights are spent with Claude or Lorenz, as Hubert found out, so all she needs to do is put the note on her desk. On her bed. Somewhere she can see. Edelgard reaches for the doorknob.

 _Oh gods, why is this so hard?_ Edelgard retreats, walking back and forth about the hallway. Eyebrows furrowing, she steels herself to tuck the note in the space under the door.

Suddenly the door opens, and Edelgard stares right into pink eyes that stare incredulously back. Edelgard gulps.

“Good evening.” She manages.

Hilda just stares at her. Edelgard can almost see her thoughts, how they violently swing from ignorance to violence.

It’s only a second longer before Hilda speaks. _So, she’s managed her impulsiveness._ “Uh, I have business to attend to, _Your Majesty_ , so if you will excuse me—” Hilda turns away abruptly.

“Hilda, wait.” She says urgently. “Please, I don’t want this rift between us, especially when we were so close—” She reaches her gloved hand out to her.

She can’t even finish the thought. Hilda grabs her and whips her into her room, the door closing behind them. Hilda rushes at her, backing her against a wall, and—

“ _You_ …You don’t get to just _come back into my life and say that.”_ Hilda hisses, nasty and cold. Edelgard’s back hits stone. “You made it _super_ clear that you didn’t want us to be close.”

“Hilda, I—”

“You abandoned me after months, _months_ , of toying with my feelings. All that _stay with_ me and _kissing good morning_ after a good fuck, that _comforting_ —”

“I thought that’s how it was supposed to be, and you slept with others too—”

“I never lied to you. Towards the end, it was only _you.”_ While her eyes don’t glisten with tears, her round eyes are wide for Edelgard to witness the deep hurt that sits there.

It’s such an impossible concept to process. “I…I…”

Hilda scoffs. “What a waste of my time.”

Edelgard’s words only comes up in a faint whisper, her courage gone. “You never said you wanted me like that.”

“Well, you and your _secrets_ would never even let me have the chance.” Hilda jeers. “And you never saw me like that. Like someone who cared. Why else would you leave me?”

Edelgard tries her best to look away. “As if Claude didn’t have his secrets.” She mutters in an attempt to bite back.

Hilda makes a frustrated sound. She rockets away from her before lashing around again. “He let me in. He needed me. Trusted me. More than you ever did. He never left me behind or doubted me, even during school. You only saw me as a plaything! Someone to lay with at night.”

“You were more than that. And I _never_ doubted you—”

“You have a funny way of showing it! You didn’t even have the decency to break up with me before you stirred up all this _shit_.” Hilda spits out. “If you were going to wage war, then _you_ carry the burden of losing the one you love. If you really enjoyed my company, at least give me fucking piece of mind. And here you are, saying you want to mend out relationship. It’s not my fault _you’re_ jealous and never moved on.”

Edelgard winces because she knows it’s true. The truth stings. She hasn’t moved on from Hilda; the portrait in her breast pocket burns against her heart is evidence of that. The fact she’s been, in lack of better terms, _obsessing_ over her relationship as of late is also proof. It was selfish of her to think of Hilda as hers.

Suddenly very exhausted, Edelgard’s shoulders sag. “I know you’re right, I just…I just wanted to make sure you were happy.”

Thankfully, Hilda’s firecracker anger has been put out. Instead, she lets out a snort. “Well. It took two people believing in me to get over my deep-rooted trust issues because my ex abandoned me to start a war. But I was happy. For a bit.” Hilda looks at Edelgard up and down, stripping her of all her defenses and status. Edelgard’s Emperor garb is no match for Hilda’s gaze.

“I’m so glad.” Edelgard manages weakly.

“But you’ve certainly made sure that we can never be.” Hilda snaps. “Your arrogance refuses to show empathy. Or mercy.”

Edelgard swallows.

“Stay here or don’t. Wallow in your self-pity. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to Lorenz’s.” Hilda grabs a blanket from her bed. “Have a good night, _El.”_

The door slams behind her, and Edelgard’s heart sinks down to her toes, leaving her a cold, empty shell.

She hates how she feels. She hates how she _misses_ it. Their interactions. After all that, despite how awful it made her feel, she still missed it. 

A large swell of an emotion overwhelms her, and she rushes to the dying fire in the corner. As if a ghost has possessed her, her fingers fish the portrait from her breast pocket and thrusts it onto the red coals.

Charcoal features of Hilda’s face burn to ash.

She regrets it as soon as the page is gone.

…

A knock on Edelgard’s door interrupts her afternoon tea. Placing her brew down, she straightens the front of her garb. “Enter.”

The guard opens the door with Lorenz, dressed in well fitted riding trousers and a matching blouse. After bowing, Lorenz places a hefty stack of documents on Edelgard’s desk. “Your Majesty. The papers you wanted your husband to look over.”

“Thank you, Lord Gloucester.” Edelgard runs a mental check list of all of the contents of the pile. “Is everything up to his standard?”

“He didn’t tell me to communicate anything with you about amendments. I assume so.” Since the marriage, Lorenz acted as the two’s messenger and liaison. Edelgard wanted to give Claude his privacy; it also allowed Lorenz to atone for his treason against her. Lorenz fell into this role naturally, especially when they had created a relationship before she knew of Lorenz’s true intentions.

“Thank you for these. I will make sure everything gets put into motion.”

Lorenz takes another low bow before turning from her.

“Please,” She gestures to across her desk. She reaches for the kettle and pours two teacups. “Have tea with me.”

She can see the hesitation in his actions. He slowly takes a seat, crossing his legs. He doesn’t reach for the cup.

“I know Claude must have trained you well, but poison is hardly my weapon of choice. I don’t poison my enemies, and you’re hardly even an enemy.” She even switches their cups as a peace offering.

Lorenz has hesitation still in his expression, but he takes the brew and drinks it. “Thank you.”

“We mostly talk business together, but I wanted to discuss personal.” She states. “If you are comfortable discussing that with me.”

Lorenz’s thin eyebrow raises ever so slightly. “Do I have a choice?”

“Of course. I know my reputation of being a tyrant, but I try not to live up to that expectation.” She folds her hands across her lap. “Firstly, how are you adjusting? I know my marriage has come as a shock to you and Duchess Goneril, but is everything in Enbarr how you expect? Is there anything we can do for you?”

“Everything is adequate. Despite my attitude, I am flexible, and I am not that picky.” Lorenz smiles against the porcelain lip of the teacup. “Except, of course, with my tea.”

“Is Duchess Goneril finding everything adequate as well? I would ask her myself, but—I’m sure you’ve heard—our last interaction did not go so well.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.” Lorenz hums. “She’s less picky than I am. And while she has her qualms about this whole situation, she will be fine.”

“When I learned about your closeness with her, I was quite surprised. You two never seemed like get along in school.”

That makes Lorenz smile. “Immaturity was our biggest weakness, Your Majesty. Like yourself, we have both changed. While maturing, I’ve seen qualities in her that are admirable.”

“Such as?” Edelgard grips her own hands to reassure herself.

Lorenz’s gaze is similar to Claude’s. They read and digest her. “Probably for the same reasons you admire her. She’s flippant but cares deeply. Witty and strong. She’s loyal to a fault, possibly too loyal for her own good.”

Edelgard’s mind flashes to the day at the Derdriu pier, how Hilda was prepared to give her last breath. “Indeed.”

“I assume you don’t have many discussions with your husband.” Lorenz presses his lips together.

“Not outside of professional business, no.”

“Well,” Lorenz looks down as if he’s weighing his words. “He would not think it right of me to say this, but while he may seem confident in his choice to wed you for the sake of his people and those closest to him, he has been just as torn as the two of us.”

Edelgard frowns. “I’m sure he has. If I know anything, I know he would never show how upset he may be, but I assume this is not easy for him.” She raises her brows. “Why are you telling me this?”

Lorenz thinks. Again, the diplomat in him selects his thoughts to convey to her. “I just hope you approach him with more empathy. He’s given up many dreams because of his decision.”

“Dreams such as?” Edelgard starts when she sees the discomfort and slight fear in Lorenz’s expression. “You won’t be punished for speaking on it. He’s allowed to love others, especially when the marriage that binds him is loveless.”

Lorenz sighs, tired. “Again, I’m sure he won’t like me revealing his secrets. He’s had many personal dreams that he’s had to give up, one being his dream of having a big family. I’m sure he would have still been able to pursue those goals even having lost the war.” Lorenz pauses. “I was not there at Derdriu to witness Hilda, but I too would have been surprised at the lengths she went to defend him. She took Claude off guard. Her dying was a possibility that could not happen. In the end, he married _you_ to save her.” His words carry so much weight.

Edelgard presses her lips together. “I don’t know if I would have forgiven such brash actions, especially if my dreams were at stake.”

“Claude is more forgiving and one to make exceptions. Especially for her.”

“If there is anything I see eye to eye with Claude, it’s being goal oriented. I don’t understand how he would—”

“Would you have left her die?” Lorenz challenges, purple eyes blazing. _Ah, so he’s just as protective of her as Claude is._

“You misunderstand. You two would have been okay…” Before Edelgard even finishes the thought, Lorenz shakes his head.

“This is not how that works. Just as we work together during the war, we all support each other in our personal lives. I adore the two of them, just as they adore me. I would not trade one for the other.”

“Does that not bother you how…how you’re being used by him?” Edelgard inquires. “You risked your life to be his spy, Hilda almost died. How are you so willing to give your lives to him when he’s so set on survival?”

Lorenz meets Edelgard’s eyes. “What’s a pawn’s purpose if not to get used?” He battles.

“The extent in which Hilda went to, defending him like that to her last breath—” Edelgard stops herself. “She never did anyone’s bidding. She never did anything for anyone. Except herself.”

“Because Claude decided to put his trust in her, be vulnerable. While she betrayed his trust in the end,” Lorenz sighs. “It ultimately brought them closer together. Meanwhile,” Lorenz brings his tea to his lips. “Here you are not utilizing those in front of you and are alone.”

Edelgard stiffens. How bold of him. “Must have been easy for the three of you.”

“It hasn’t been easy at all. Those two are not good with matters of the heart, at least with each other. I can be…sensitive. It took many years for them to be vulnerable and meet me where I felt comfortable. It took even longer for them to be vulnerable in the absence of me.” Lorenz puffs up. “Without me, I doubt their relationship would have even flourished.”

“I see.” Edelgard frowns. “Thank you for your insight.”

Lorenz stands, despite not finishing his brew. “Your Majesty, I beg of you. Grant us your empathy.”

So deep in thought, she barely remembers him bowing and taking his leave.

…

Edelgard wakes up to speaking.

With a soft groan, she sits up and runs a hand through her hair to push it away from her face. The moonlight streaming through the crack in the curtains says its well past midnight, and the summer breeze blows through the slightly drawn window. Heaving herself up from her four-poster bed, she reaches for the window handle to shut it.

“Oh _hush_ , Lor, no one’s gonna find us.” Hilda’s familiar voice drifts into Edelgard’s room.

Her hand freezes at the handle.

Lorenz’s voice is even lower than Hilda’s, and Edelgard can barely make it out. “It is the _Emperor’s_ private gardens, and if you didn’t notice, the window is slightly ajar—”

“Edelgard won’t do a thing.” Claude’s voice carries in the wind. “I’m her husband, so whatever private gardens she’s privy to, I am as well. Besides,” Edelgard can make out the three figures below her and she hopes no one sees her. “This is the safest place for us right now.”

Objectively, it makes sense. After their conversation, Lorenz must have told the other two. So now Claude knows that she knows about their arrangement.

“Why are we out here in the first place?” Lorenz says lowly. “You insist that Her Majesty won’t do anything, but there is a level of risk I don’t think we should—”

Edelgard watches Claude press his lips to Lorenz’s cheek. “You worry too much. We must live a little. I know the past few months have been particularly rough for you two, and I can’t make it up the way I want. But this is…”

“He owes us big time, so just take what you can Lor.” Hilda says cheerfully. “Hey, let’s take some of the flowers.”

“ _Hilda_.”

“What! These flowers look beautiful and _smell_ beautiful too. Hey, Khalid, can you make me that perfume you used to make from the greenhouse back in school? The one you distilled and did some fancy boiling stuff to make it super concentrated? That lasted me _forever_.”

Claude hums. “I can try. I need to remember the exact recipe.”

Lorenz walks over to Hilda cheerfully picking flowers, purposefully picking from a specific area to make her mark. Edelgard feels a twinge of annoyance. “That’s what you wore? You always smelled lovely. I remember.”

“You remember, do you?” Claude jokes. His smirk can be seen from Edelgard’s window. “I never thought you would _notice_ anything of Hilda’s, especially when you complained of her teasing you too much—"

“I mean…!” Lorenz clears his throat. “She used to dowse herself in it, you could smell it wherever she went. It was hardly _un_ noticeable…” She can’t see with his back turned, but she knows his face is red because of the red on the tips of his ears.

“That’s sweet.” Hilda turns to him. “Do you want one too? Here, let’s see what Edelgard has, and you can make your own!”

Edelgard watches the two meander around the small garden clearing, picking flowers together. Their interactions are just as Lorenz suggested. They support one another, make sure not the other gets left behind. An air of comfort lies between them all. She can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy as Hilda tiptoes up to tuck a pink rose into Lorenz’s bun.

When her eyes finally make it to Claude, his eyes are as swift as his bow, shooting straight to meet hers several stories up. It pierces her, making her stomach drop and turn. He knows she’s there, possibly even bringing the three of them here on purpose. There’s a new look in his eyes, one she has never seen before. He looks like a hunter, but his stare speaks the words of an executioner. His evergreen eyes read: _If you take them from me, I’ll end you myself._

She understands it as a threat. It’s the only leverage he has when she has the upper hand.

“Khalid!”

Claude turns from Edelgard’s pale eyes to Hilda who drops a handful of flowers into his open hands.

“This will do for the two of us, right?”

For the first time, Edelgard sees Claude without any barriers, any walls. His eyes lower to Hilda. Suddenly, he’s no longer a prince, first in line to a foreign throne, genius tactician, Leader of the Leicester Alliance. He’s just a man faced with love.

Lorenz watches the two of them fondly. Claude lowers to kiss Hilda. She enjoys herself, smiling, before pulling away.

“What was that for?” Hilda snarks.

“Sing for us.” Claude says, avoiding her remark. Still holding their flowers in his hand, he gestures for Lorenz to sit with him in the clearing. Long limbs bow like a heron and Lorenz leans against him, his cheek resting on Claude’s head. _They act like an old couple_ , Edelgard muses.

“ _Here?_ Edelgard’s room is _right_ there, she might hear me!”

“Sing that Almyran lullaby you learned.” Lorenz encourages.

“I don’t know any of the words!”

Claude laughs. “Just the melody. C’mon, Hil…”

“You’re lucky I’m so good to you two.” Hilda rolls her eyes, and she clears her throat.

When Hilda opens her mouth, a sweet voice with a sleepy tune fills the night air. It’s different from Dorothea’s voice, less open and bold, but with just as much range. It chimes in the wind like bells, and Edelgard closes her eyes.

“I never knew she liked to sing.” She whispers to herself. Her hands finally find the window handle as she closes the window as gently as she can. As Claude and Lorenz cheer and holler praises, she draws the curtains. Before getting into bed, she wonders how she should act when Hubert undoubtedly will give her his intel the following morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hilda loving to sing in choir despite not being religious is so fascinating to me. obviously, the answer is she has bars, but she never uses them. 
> 
> thank you for reading.


End file.
